Dirty Faces
by rcswart
Summary: A series of shorts. If you have any ideas or advice, don't be shy! a poll on my profile decides character focus.First Chap deals with Ravenholm welcoming Dr Freeman. Shorts range from violence to ponderings to all out action
1. Curiousity

This is a series of shorts. I'll do my best in every respect. R & R and thankyou for reading

* * *

Ominous sounds filled the air all around him.

Wind howled, but in an eerily silent way. Wooden buildings creaked and groaned in protest, distinguishing themselves from their otherwise identical stone counterparts. The crackling and hissing of fierce fires was punctuated by the nauseating stench of burning flesh (_human and alien_ he noted detachedly, disturbed by knowing the difference) and gas. Above all this though, this horrific soundtrack that was Ravenholm, was the ungodly chorus of moans and wails of creatures once human. Again, he detachedly recognized one of the noises. _Zombies…_

He sighed, loudly.

A screech suddenly permeated his immediate right and he snapped his head towards the source. What he found was a headcrab. _I think_. It seemed to resemble the kind he'd encountered thus far, except it was a deep black and had thicker legs. It also had spine-like hairs blotted all over its body. _Probably in order for it to feel air vibrations, the colour probably for stealthy movement and the stronger legs for speedy lunges. But it resembles a spider more than a crab. Perhaps it's an evolved cousin_…_ It __**has**__ been twenty years since they'd come to earth…_He quickly shook his head. He'd learned to ignore his scientific curiosity long ago though. So, in a practiced fashion he brought his crowbar to bear.

Too late.

"Gah!"

The creature had lunged at him somewhere during his mental analysis and groped its way to the top of his head. Growling loudly and moving quickly, he wedged the crowbar's hook end into the headcrab's cavity and tugged forward with all his might. The alien crustacean squealed in angry protest and dug its four claws into his neck. This did no harm, his tight neck collar unyielding, until he pried it off him completely allowing a claw to scrape his ear.

"Damn…"

He struck the black headcrab until his arms grew heavy with the frustrated effort and he fell on his rear. His breathing was erratic and his heart thundered in his protected chest.

Gasping, he tried to stand and calm down. His vision swirled violently and he fell again. Blinking, he raised his hand to touch his ear, struggling with his sudden weakness. He looked at his hand and saw blood and an almost luminous bluish fluid there. _Ah. So that's it_. Satisfied with finding the reason for his exhaustion he blacked out.

* * *

Lying there sprawled across the scorched dirt, he missed what would be equivalent to a medical team tensely struggling to revive him in the quietest way possible…

"Warning. Unknown poisonous entity detected. Commencing analysis…"

The whispered statement was heard by none.

"Analysis complete. Poisonous entity contains neural antibodies and neurotoxins. Symptoms include drops in bodily functions, loss of several neural connections and severe tissue deformation. Commencing search of stored anti-venoms for possible match of symptoms…"

The black headcrab lay dead not two feet from the tense scene.

"Search complete. Match found. Administering anti-toxins. Seek medical attention for further treatment."

Eyes fluttering, the suited man awoke to one last whispered remark, "Avoidance of further contraction advised. Anti-toxin stores limited. Have a safe day."

Then there was silence. Sort of. Sitting up and groaning tiredly, the man adjusted his glasses and blew out a sigh. "Poisonous headcrabs." Shaking his head he stood up straight and took stock of his surroundings once again. He was about twenty feet from the tunnel he took to get to this place. Twenty feet and he almost died. This was a little different from what he usually put up with. He sighed again._ Doing that a lot lately_…Bending down, he scooped up his crowbar and his borrowed Zero Point Manipulator. _Gravity Gun_, he corrected himself, remembering Alex's exasperated tone.

He frowned. He had somewhere to go. People to not let down.

He hung his crowbar over his shoulder and manned the Gravity Gun. It was a powerful tool. _A powerful weapon if used correctly_, he thought. It was a gun and anything was ammunition. He needed practice and this Ravenholm place seemed packed with willing volunteers. _Keep thinking like that and you'll make it. You've got to_...

Moments passed. Buildings creaked. Zombies wailed and Gordon Freeman stood still. Alive. Determined. He wouldn't stop until he was out of this place. It was just another hell, where people who once free, were now trapped within their own bodies. Slaves to the hunger of the headcrabs. An entire town of zombies. He was the only one alive. The only one...

He smiled wainly.

"...free."

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	2. Not From Dale's

Yes I changed the title. I knew I got the word odditites from somewhere here! I sincerely apologize to Alafalstein for totally ripping off his great oneshot series. Really didn't notice until now.

Okay next chap. This ones with Barney. You'll know where and when it takes place. I don't see any reviews yet :(

But I we shall perservere!!!

please, if you have time give me a review, flame me if ya want even...oh an check out my poll!

and again

thankyou for reading

* * *

"Blegh."

Barney spat blood before heaving himself off the wall he was resting against. He had been smiling happily to himself since learning of Gordon and Alex's eventual return to Dr. Kleiner's teleportation chamber.

That was until the Overwatch forces had decided play dodge ball with a headcrab loaded shell.

He looked around wearily and scowled.

"Damn it."

It had landed in the same spot where he had been talking with Dr. Kleiner via view-screen only moments ago, taking half his squad with it in a cloud of smoke. The rest laid still, headcrabs gyrating greedily against their craniums. Which was about five feet from where he now stood, unsteadily checking his injuries without any help.

He stared down at them for a moment, grieving silently.

His head snapped up just as an explosion rocked a building three blocks over. He looked over the scene before him and sighed.

He should keep moving, conserve the ammo.

_An leave em' trapped in their own bodies for the rest of their days_, he thought dourly.

He knew he should put them out of their misery, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was weary and in pain from the force of the shell impact…and he just couldn't risk killing a headcrab and leave a victim alive…not after its done what it…does to a person.

Groaning away the bile in his throat, Barney made no move to try and help his remaining squad.

Instead, he let his AR-2 rest in his hands, choosing to wait for the process to finish with his former squad mates. In all, it shouldn't take more than about ten to fifteen minutes for them to turn into zombies. Enough time for him to rest a little.

And come to terms with what he had to do.

* * *

Their bodies shook by minute fractions, their insides being forced to a point in the torso. Sharp bone-like protrusions poked out of the flesh by millimeters, looking oddly like teeth in the hazy light.

Barney shifted his weight slightly as soft groans started to fill the air. _Can't be more than ten minutes now_. With each passing second he felt his strength returning and along with it, his grip on his rifle. Slowly preparing for what was to come.

The groans and snarls started to increase in volume and frequency.

_Here we go_.

The zombies seemed to share his thoughts, stumbling to their feet and taking a few limping steps. Barney sighed intentionally loud, drawing their attention away from the rest of his dead squad. They responded immediately.

"Grawww"

"Aaarrrghhh"

His face grim, Barney leveled his sights on the nearest target. _Darwin_…He paused one last time before narrowing his eyes until he could barely see and, holding his breath in, squeezed the trigger tightly.

The pulse round burned its way through exoskeleton and skull alike. The loud discharge punctuated by a faint sizzling.

The zombie collapsed bodily and Barney brought his aim on the next target. _Ramirez_…

The rifle recoiled against his shoulder and the headcrab exploded in gore.

He looked briefly to the headless body of his young comrade before snapping his eyes towards the two still standing. He brought his rifle up in front of him just as an elongated hand slashed across his torso. Grunting under the force of the blow, his insides flaring in internal pain, he slammed the butt of the AR-2 against his assailant in a surprise counter strike to its face. _Dale's face_, he quickly reprimanded.

A gurgling growl to his eleven o' clock caught his attention and he twirled around, stepping out of the floored zombie's reach and clenched his trigger finger in two rapid successions.

Not waiting to confirm that one's death, he quickly put two rounds in the zombie that had managed to crawl its way to his boots.

He froze, Dale's face now staring up at him lifelessly making him stop.

He stood up straight and sighed, dropping his shoulders and allowing his eyes to slide closed. _Jade, Tom, Mannie, Helen, Darwin, Ramirez, Dale_..._and Kyle_, thought morosely as he confirmed the last corpse he made before Dale's.

His squad of 9 was now a hopeless 1…

Standing there among his deformed and dead fellow rebels, he conceded that they would have done the same for him…even though he **had** trained them not to. Reaching down where he stood, he gently closed Dale's terrified eyes. He couldn't do it for the rest of them. Beheaded, burned or bullet riddled bodies wouldn't let him.

So he just took the ammo from their pockets…except from Dale's…not from Dale's.

He stared coldly at the pulse capsules in his hand.

Not from Dale's.

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End file.
